I can't believe it's been two whole years since I last wrote here. Wow. SO MUCH has happened in two years. I can't even believe that I didn't write anything more during the first part of my first pregnancy I wrote about it the last post, because yes, a line was a line, and my third IUI was successful.
I was so relieved, because I had only purchased 3 vials of donor sperm, and I was going to have to wait a little while and save up some more money to continue if the third try wasn't successful. That put a lot of pressure on that third try. But as I wrote in my last post, it was a positive and I was SO happy.
My first trimester was pretty easy, I didn't have morning sickness, I wasn't tired, none of the stuff I expected to happen, I was pleasantly surprised (from what I remember, it was awhile ago now!)
Around week 12 I told people and of course they were thrilled for me. And then within literally days, I woke up in the morning in a 6" wide puddle of blood. I freaked (obviously). I had just transferred from my RE to an OB, so I went in that morning, and I remember being surprised that they didn't bring me right in and see me right then, but I waited about 45 minutes in the waiting room, freaking out with a million scary thoughts going through my head. I was alone there, and it hadn't even occurred to me to call anyone to ask them to meet me there and be there for me. I felt really alone.
Eventually I saw the doctor, they did an ultrasound and found I had a low lying placenta. Everything else was fine, the doctor told me to take it easy and not lift anything heavy or do any real exercise. In the end I realized the bleeding was probably caused by the fact that I had moved a bunch of boxes to the basement the day before.
So I did, I took it easy, but didn't worry too much about it, since the doctor didn't seem too concerned at all.
From that point on, every week or so I would have another episode of bleeding. It would take about a week for all the blood to work it's way out of my system, so it felt like the blood was just a constant in my life for those 4 weeks. It was all I ever thought about.
At 16 weeks on 11/11/11, my water broke. It happened at work, about 9 am when I was the only one in the office. It didn't feel like anything - suddenly my pants were wet, and just kept getting wetter and wetter. I didn't feel a pop, or a rip or like I was peeing, or anything. It just happened.
I packed up my stuff, called my boss and left her a message that I thought my water had broken, got in my car and started the 50 minute ride to the hospital. I called my OBs office on the way, of course I spoke to a completely different doctor (there were about 15 of them in that practice), who told me to go to the ER but there was really not much to be done, in terms of my rushing there.
That was the last time I worked for a month and a half. My water had broken - I had premature rupture of membranes, and I spent the next 3 days in the hospital, hoping, praying my placenta would heal itself and fill back up with fluid. Then I went home to stay with my parents, on bed rest for 10 days, hoping and praying it would heal itself.
It never did and on 11/21/11 at just about 18 weeks I had a D & E to end the pregnancy. I got a card with her footprints on it. And it was over.
I took a month and half of medical leave from my job to heal. Emotionally heal, the physical part took about 2 days. I was devastated. I tried not to dwell on it, but I've always believed my doctor never took my condition seriously enough. I wanted so much to believe that it wasn't a life threatening situation for the baby, that I didn't think it was dangerous to do prenatal yoga - the doctor said it wasn't wrong to do it! But now I think he was wrong and I hate him for it.